Boy Princess
by LonelyHearts2008
Summary: When the young woman betrothed to Pharaoh Atem suddenly elopes with another man mere weeks before the wedding, her desperate parents have no choice but to send her younger brother in her place. His deception could get him killed, but what's this rumor that the Pharaoh prefers the company of men? Blindshipping Drama/Fluff/Smut.
1. The Discovery

**Summary**

When the young woman betrothed to Pharaoh Atem suddenly elopes with another man mere weeks before the wedding, her desperate parents have no other choice but to send her younger brother in her place. Blindshipping Drama/Fluff/Smut.

* * *

_The day my sister ran away was the day my life changed forever…_

It was like any other day; the sun peeked over the horizon, staining the sky a beautiful, hazy gold. From beneath his covers, Heba stirred, rubbing still tired eyes. The sun was almost too bright now that he sat up, mussed bangs stuck with sweat to his forehead.

It was silent. _Too_ silent. Not even the faint smell of Mama's cooking to rouse him. The creeping silence lured him out of bed and out of his room, to face his father sitting still as a cadaver in a chair.

"…Papa?" Heba said, reaching out for his father in trepidation.

"Heba."

Heba pulled his hand back, bowing deeply. "Good morning, Father."

He regarded his son with an affirmative hum. Papa was normally a man of few words, but he seemed too deep in thought. The eerie silence returned once more, Heba stammering for words.

"W-where is Mama? And Fatima?" asked the boy.

Papa scoffed before answering. "Your mother is resting." He seemed content to leave it at that. Heba took note of his hesitance.

"And…Fatima?"

It seemed his son was going to force his hand. "She is gone," he finally replied.

Eyes widening in surprise, Heba toyed with the hem of his tunic.

"Gone? Gone _where_, Papa?"

"She has eloped," replied Mama from the doorframe.

"_What?_"

Mama weakly made her way to a chair beside her husband, folding her hands neatly over her lap.

"As you know, Heba, Fatima was set to marry the Pharaoh in a fortnight in exchange for my treatment. However, your father found that she had begun to spend time with a stable hand outside the city. The two have eloped," Mama explained.

"But, what about the Pharaoh? How will he get a bride if we haven't one to give him?" Heba asked desperately.

"Your father suggested taking another girl and having her take Fatima's place, but it is too cruel to take a man's daughter and barter her off. We have no other options-"

"We have one," Papa said, cutting his wife off.

Mama turned to him, eyes searching for an answer. "We _do_?"

Papa rose from his seat, placing his hands on Heba's shoulders.

"As our only son, you are to protect the family in the event that I cannot," said Papa, voice wavering.

"I know."

"So, it is with a heavy heart that I ask you to take your sister's place as the Pharaoh's bride."

Mama gasped and launched herself from her seat in a surprising show of strength, throwing her arms around her son.

"No! You cannot send Heba! I will not allow you!"

"We have no other choice, my love! How are you to receive your treatment if we do not give the Pharaoh a bride?" cried Papa.

Her grip tightened. "I would first lie down and die before I give him away! If he is found out, the Pharaoh will execute him for his deception!"

Heba unwrapped his mother's arms, then cast his eyes in determination. "I will do it."

"…What?" Mama asked, eyes welling with tears. "No, Heba…you cannot, my child!"

"Mama," Heba began, gripping his mother's hand, "your health means more to me than my life. I would lay down my life if it meant that you and Papa and Fatima could live happily. I will marry the Pharaoh in Fatima's place."

"But, what if you are found out?"

"Then, my death will not be in vain," replied Heba.

Papa smiled, weak but genuine. "You are brave beyond measure, my son. I apologize for putting you through this."

Mama hung her head in defeat. "Please be safe, Heba. I couldn't bear it if I lost you."

"I cannot be sure what will happen to me, but I am willing to risk it, if it means you can live in comfort," said Heba.

"The Pharaoh's men will come to take you to the palace in three days. That gives us ample time to prepare your clothes. You will acclimate to the palace for seven days until the wedding. Luckily, the Pharaoh will not see you until the day of the wedding. I am placing my trust in you, son."

* * *

In three days, Mama had tailored Fatima's dress to fit her brother. Heba could mostly pass for a flat-chested woman; his body unusually supple for a young man. Fatima would tease him, saying he hadn't yet lost his baby fat. It was much less of a hindrance in this situation.

He was taught to speak softly, sit demurely, and guard his true identity. If anyone at the palace, much less the Pharaoh himself, catch wind of the deception, it could spell the end.

He was now Fatima. Heba was the life he'd be leaving behind.

Heba's reflections ended when Papa escorted two robed men inside.

"Here she is."

"_She? Who is she?"_ Heba thought. It hit him just as quickly.

_He_ was now _her._

"_Oh, right. Me."_

One of the robed men stepped toward Heba, gently pulling the veil from his face. A bit of captivating eyeliner and red lip color went a long way in convincing him.

"She is a beautiful woman. The Pharaoh will be pleased to take her as his wife."

"We certainly hope he finds favor in her," Mama said, wrapping her arms around Heba.

The man stood upright, arms folded behind his back. "I will allow you goodbyes." He waved his hand, the other man following him out of the home.

Mama placed the veil back over Heba's face and smoothed his dress.

"Please be safe. I know that the Pharaoh will protect you as long as we can continue this. Be a good boy, Heba."

"Yes, Mama."

"Do not do anything that would lead them to question your identity,' said Papa. As serious as ever.

"Yes, Papa."

"You should not keep them waiting any longer."

With tears in his eyes, Heba turned slowly away from his parents and toward his new life.

"_Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Father."_

The two men helped Heba into the carriage as he stole one last look at his parents and prepared him for the long ride back to the palace.

* * *

It was nearing sundown and they had not yet come upon sight of the palace. Every so often, one of the men not at the reigns would turn to peer inside at the Pharaoh's bride. At some point, the horses' gentle trotting and the rock of the carriage on the road lulled Heba to sleep on what was already a dull ride through vast countryside. Head leaned against the side of the carriage, he looked unbothered in rest, eyelashes resting gently on pink cheeks.

"She truly is a beautiful woman. And the Pharaoh hasn't laid eyes on her yet?" asked one of the men.

"He is not to see her face until the day they are wed. In seven days, she will captivate him," replied the driver.

* * *

Heba awoke to talking seeping through his subconscious. Surely, they must be close to the palace by now.

"It is quite unfortunate that she will marry the Pharaoh."

"Why is that?"

"Well…there is a rumor. I best not say anymore."

"_A rumor?"_ thought Heba. _"About the Pharaoh?"_

"You have already put it out there, now say!"

"They…they say that Pharaoh Atem prefers the company of other men and that he has never looked upon a woman with wifely designs. What has made him decide to suddenly wed this girl is a mystery."

"That's hogwash! The Pharaoh is still young. I find it great that he has decided to marry this young woman! I just wonder why he would marry a farmer's daughter, instead of any girls in the richer districts."

Heba closed his eyes, hoping that if he pressed them tighter, he would come to rest quicker. To no avail; his heart was beating wildly out of his chest with this new information.

"_No! No, Heba! It's just a silly rumor! Surely, if __**Fatima**__ was really the one that became his bride, the Pharaoh would love her unconditionally! …Right?"_

He came to an uneasy rest.

* * *

Finally, they arrived at the palace. Heba stepped out of the carriage to the sight of what seemed like nearly one hundred people bowing to him.

"_No. Stop that!"_

"Is the Pharaoh in his quarters?"

"He mustn't be allowed to see her!"

"Priest Set and Priest Mahaad are guarding his quarters."

A young woman rose from the bowed heads, stepping by Heba's side.

"I will take you to your quarters. There, you will be washed and clothed. We must go the long way. Pharaoh Atem _must not_ see you."

* * *

Heba let the woman lead him down the winding corridors of the palace, watching men and women rushing in all directions, excitedly chatting among themselves. Some would catch his eye and bow lowly to him as he walked by.

Once they reached his quarters, the woman bowed.

"I will allow you to undress for your bath."

With that, she left, closing the door behind her.

Slowly, Heba began to undress, staring absently out the window.

_"Could the rumor those two guards spoke of be true? Would Fatima still want to marry the Pharaoh after hearing such a rumor? Oh, dear sister. Please guide me. What would **you** do?"_

* * *

"I do not see why I have to wait to see my bride. Our marriage was arranged five months ago and I only know her name. Surely I have waited long enough?" the Pharaoh inquired.

"It is only in seven days' time that you will see your new wife," Set began, folding his arms, "you can wait just a while longer."

Pharaoh Atem leaned on his arm. "I suppose so."

A smirk crossed his lips.

"I do hope she is ready for me."


	2. The Wedding

_Three Days Before The Wedding_

Heba wasn't used to being pampered; to having ladies fawn and fuss over him. He wasn't used to the bright and flashy clothes and the heavy, but gorgeous, gold jewelry laid upon him. He wasn't used to living the life of a woman. Yet, he couldn't let them know. He just had to do what he set out to do. For his family.

Still, the pampering happened. Every day, in fact. He avoided detection by one of the ladies scrubbing his body. They cooed over his smooth bronze skin and bright eyes. The boy's eyes were an unusual purple whose color rivaled the beauty of the Pharaoh's ochre gaze. They giggled as his eyes watered while applying makeup. They envied him in the beautiful clothes made for him.

He could get used to this.

* * *

Pharaoh Atem stole a glance out of the throne room. He was confined here since his bride arrived at the palace. Between being in the throne room and being escorted to his quarters by Mahaad at the end of every day, Atem still found time to be mischievous. Despite being the ruler of a great kingdom, Atem still hadn't grown out of this childish phase.

Snickering to himself, Atem snuck out of the throne room and rounded a corner in hopes of sneaking a peek at his betrothed. Gasping, he ducked behind a vase as his vizier, Siamun, exited one of the rooms. Much to his luck, he remained unseen as Siamun passed by him to enter another room. He continued, triumphantly, down the corridor. For just a moment, Atem took his eyes away to acknowledge a bowing servant with a curt nod before refocusing himself and bumping into something hard.

"And just _where_ are you going, Your Excellency?"

Atem looked up, finding that he hadn't bumped into a wall. He had landed in Mahaad's arms, a taunting smile playing across his lips.

"Er, I was just looking to stretch my legs," Atem replied as Mahaad placed his hands on his hips.

"I am sure of it, my king. However, isn't this also the direction in which your bride's quarters lie?" asked the Priest.

"_Is it?_" Atem pointed behind himself. "I could have sworn that it was _that_ way."

"Actually, that is the direction of _your_ quarters, dear Pharaoh," Mahaad said dryly.

"I was hoping to stroll the gardens," said Atem with a hopefully convincing smile.

Mahaad wasn't buying it. In the end, the magician sighed.

"I will escort you, my king-"

"Thank you, Mahaad."

"-_After_ my work is finished and in your own personal gardens. You are still not allowed to see your bride, no matter _how_ curious you are. In three more days, you will see her. Until then, I will take you back to the throne room."

His plan foiled, Atem let himself be escorted back to isolation.

* * *

_Two Days Before The Wedding_

When the servants said 'you may ask for anything', they certainly meant it. Heba just did not feel that he had the right to do that. However, he was hungry and the only way he would get food was if he asked.

Seeing no other way, Heba rose from his chair, smoothing his skirts, and opened the door. There were no guards outside his lavish quarters. He left, hoping to find a servant or at least find the kitchens. He didn't find the kitchens. Instead, he found the gardens, mystified by the beauty of the bright green grass and clear ponds. He let himself be lured out by the breeze and perched next to a pond.

Dragging his hand through the clear water, Heba hadn't noticed when someone appeared behind him.

"What are you doing out here?"

Surprised, Heba turned to face the voice. It was Set, another priest in Atem's court, looking upon him sternly. He felt a little intimidated under his scrutiny, but he figured he had better explain his actions.

"I-I was hungry and I was looking for the kitchens, but I found the gardens. It was so pretty, I had to come look."

"You came without attendants?" asked Set.

"I could not find them," said Heba.

Finally, Set's face relaxed into a more friendly expression. "Lady Fatima, allow me to escort you back to your quarters and I will have a lavish feast set upon you. However, you may not wander the palace without an escort. Should the Pharaoh see you before the two of you are wed, it would be disastrous."

"I understand," Heba replied, crossing his arms demurely over his lap.

With that, Set turned on his heel, leaving Heba no choice but to follow him back to his room.

* * *

_The Night Before The Wedding_

Days of knowing his bride was inside the palace, but never seeing her, was making Atem quite impatient. Luckily, it was the night before the wedding and his wait would soon be over.

Currently, the Pharaoh was being briefed by Set on what was to happen the next day, leaning interestedly on one arm.

"You will meet your bride and be wed first thing in the morning. A grand celebration and feast will take place after the ceremony. You and Lady Fatima are allowed at any point to retire to your quarters if you so please. You and the Queen will be given the utmost privacy."

"Understood." Tired, Atem straightened his back. "I am quite tired. I would like to retire early. If I am to be spry and ready to accommodate my bride, I must rest well."

Mahaad bowed deeply. "Of course, my liege. Allow me to escort you to your quarters."

* * *

"_I must be strong for Mama and Papa. I know Fatima would. Come the morning, she – I – will be Queen of Egypt, and Mama's treatment will be procured. She will live, even for a little longer. I wonder if the Pharaoh will be benevolent enough to let me see them."_

Still, that curious rumor bothered him. Could it really be true that Pharaoh Atem liked men? Well, he wouldn't like _him_. He had deceived him, marrying him under the guise of a woman. For his deception, he would be killed if it were ever revealed that he was indeed male.

He couldn't back out now, not when the source of his mother's salvation was so close.

"_I must be strong for Mama and Papa, and soon, I must be strong for all of Egypt."_

* * *

_The Day of The Wedding_

Like every day so far, Heba was awoken early. Like every day so far, Heba was bathed, primped and pampered.

Unlike every day so far, today's dress – an ornate blue, white, and gold number – was longer. Today's jewelry was heavier, the weight of the solid gold headband somewhat balanced by the heaviness of the gold collar. Today's makeup took longer, extra attention paid to his eyes in case he cried.

"She has to be perfect to see the Pharaoh! Not a single hair out of place!"

Security around the palace was tighter as well. Not a single door went unguarded.

The door swung open, Mahaad stepping inside and bowing.

"The Pharaoh is ready. Has the Lady been prepared?"

"Yes," replied a servant. She then turned to Heba. "Lady Fatima, are you ready for the ceremony to begin?"

Heba stood, turning to Mahaad. The priest seemed wowed for a second before adopting a more indifferent expression.

"Yes. I am ready."

Mahaad held out a hand to Heba. "If you will, my Lady. We will escort you to the ceremony."

It was now or never. Heba placed his hand in Mahaad's, lifting his skirts with the other, and left to be presented to the Pharaoh.

To his new husband.

* * *

The day had arrived. Pharaoh Atem sat, awaiting the appearance of his bride. Everyone, from the servants to the priests, stood in the Great Hall to catch a glimpse at the new Queen of Egypt.

The heavy doors of the Great Hall opened, people clamoring over one another to get a better view.

"The Queen of Egypt has arrived!"

The Pharaoh rose from his throne, smiling as the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on approached him.

Heba looked at the Pharaoh, smiling as Mahaad let go of his hand to allow the Pharaoh to grab it instead. Finally, he stood before the man he, if all went well, would spend the rest of his life with.

Atem gripped his bride's hand with a loving gentleness. "Lady Fatima, would you do me, Pharaoh Atem of Egypt, the honor of becoming my Royal Wife and standing beside me as the Queen of Egypt?"

Heba smiled, captivating the Pharaoh further. He had him right where he wanted him.

"Yes."

Cheers erupted from the palace as the Pharaoh and his new Queen looked on.

"We should go greet the crowds," Atem said, winding an arm around Heba's waist.

"The crowds?"

Atem led his wife to the balcony, where a sea of people stood before the palace, cheering wildly.

"People of Egypt!" Atem exclaimed, the crowd quieting down. He ushered his new wife to his side.

"Today is a day of celebration, for I, Pharaoh Atem, have taken a wife! Welcome your new Queen with open arms and celebrate her coronation as Lady Fatima, Queen of Egypt!"

The people exploded into cheers and chants, the Pharaoh finally turning to his wife.

"I believe a kiss, for blessing, is in order here," he said, smiling down at Heba.

"_A kiss?"_ Heba thought as Atem cupped his face._ "In front of all __**these**__ people?"_

Without thinking, he prepared himself for the kiss, eyes slipping closed.

Atem pressed his lips to Heba's, savoring the feel. He laughed, sensing his little bride's inexperience. He coaxed him further into the kiss, winding an arm around his waist and prying his lips apart to deepen the kiss.

He succeeded, gripping tighter at his wife's surprised gasp. Tugging at his husband's tunic, Heba pulled away.

"Something wrong?" asked Atem.

"I'm sorry. I've never done this."

"Do not apologize. We've all the time in the world to practice."

* * *

Heba surveyed the partiers from the gold clad throne he sat in. Everyone was having fun and it was all for him and the Pharaoh. Even people outside the palace stayed on the grounds to share food, drink and merriment. A drunk man stood to dance for a moment, Heba laughing at his amusing thrashings.

His perusing of the guests ended when a cup of spirits dangled before his line of vision.

"I brought you a drink," Atem said as he took the seat next to him.

"Thank you." He took the drink, sipping at the sweet wine.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Yes," answered Heba. "I'm pleased that everyone is celebrating our union."

"As am I. It is good to see the people celebrating something good for a change. The kingdom has been through a lot of strife recently and I am glad my marriage can bring some happiness."

Pharaoh Atem was a man as humble as he was prideful. It served little wonder why the kingdom was so successful under him. Perhaps, it wouldn't be _so_ bad to be married to a man of his character.

* * *

The festivities carried on into the late night. Normally, the palace would be winding down by now. By all means, Heba was ready to call it a night, yawning and stretching in his seat. Taking note of his wife's discomfort, Atem waved Siamun over, the old man leaning over to hear his charge.

"Yes, Pharaoh?"

"My wife and I wish to retire to bed. There is no need to see us off. I just want her to get her proper rest," Atem said.

"Yes, Pharaoh. I will tell the others of your plans."

"Thank you."

And with that, Atem took Heba by the hand and led him through the throng of still celebrating people.

* * *

Heba turned his attention to the Pharaoh.

"Where are we going?"

"To our quarters," answered the young king.

"We-we sleep _together_?"

Atem regarded his wife with a smile. "Is something the matter, Fatima?"

Heba shook his head, the Pharaoh's chest puffing with laughter.

"Why, it is almost as if you're _offended_ with having to sleep with me!" Atem turned away, pretending to be sad. "I am hurt, my Queen."

"It's not like that at all!" cried Heba in his own defense. The Pharaoh's wounded gazelle gambit worked.

"So, you are _eager_ to sleep with me then?"

A deep cherry flush spread across Heba's face. "I'm not sure eager is the right word. I am…happy."

"I was only teasing," Atem said apologetically, lacing an arm around Heba's waist and pulling him closer. "You have been tense and formal with me all evening. I wished to lighten the mood. We are equals now, Fatima. Treat me as you would a peer."

Easy to say when you're the Pharaoh. Nonetheless, Heba agreed, resting his head on Atem's shoulder.

* * *

"Well, here we are," Atem said, opening the door to the most opulent room Heba had ever seen.

Deep purple and red covers draped the large golden canopy bed in the middle of the room. A screen adorned one corner, possibly a place to disrobe in private. A chest sat at the foot of the bed; Heba assumed clothing to be inside it.

Atem entered the room and sat on the bed. "You like?"

"…It's beautiful," Heba said, finally stepping inside.

The Pharaoh stepped around his bride to close the door. "If you wish to change, you may step behind that screen."

"Ah. Thank you."

"But first," Atem began, lifting Heba's chin to plant a soft kiss on his lips, "we should find you something to sleep in. Open that chest."

* * *

In the end, Heba decided on a semi-sheer red sleep dress. He came from behind the screen with an exhale, holding his arms out at his sides.

"How do I look?"

Atem nodded. "Fine, but it is designed to sit off your shoulders." He stepped behind Heba, tugging the neckline down. "There. Much better."

"Yes?" Heba asked, noticing that Atem had never moved.

"_Oh. Oh no, what if he wants to consummate the marriage tonight?"_

Atem seemed to snap out of his reverie, placing a kiss against his wife's shoulder.

"We should sleep for the night," said Atem. He sat down and patted the bed beside him.

Heba slipped under the covers, smiling at the Pharaoh. Atem leaned over, pulling Heba into a passionate kiss.

"Good night, my Queen."

Heba lay down, feeling Atem's arm drape over his hips.

"Good night, dear Pharaoh."


End file.
